Misunderstood

All my life, I've been the outcast. Things always seem to go wrong for me. All my brothers were popular in school. Bill received OWLS in all 12 subjects, was a Prefect and Head Boy and now he's engaged. Charlie was a star Quidditch Seeker that earned him and Gryffindor the Quidditch Cup a number of times during his seven years there. He's also now managing to hold down his full-time job as a dragon keeper in Romania while fulfilling all his duties in the Order of Phoenix here in Britain. Fred and George have always been in the spotlight. Of course, it's always been because of their tricks and sense of humor, never their grades, but they're always the center of attention. And even though He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named is out in full force, their chain of joke shops is the biggest moneymaker in the Wizarding World right now. There's also Ron. His grades aren't the best, but he manages all the same while performing as Keeper for the Gryffindor Quidditch team and doing his job as a Prefect. I have little doubt he may be Head Boy next year if Hogwarts is still open.

Then there's little Ginny, my only sister. She's got excellent grades and is on the Quidditch team. One of the top witches at Hogwarts, I'd bet. But, I seem to be out of place in my family of over-achievers. I was one of the best Prefects Hogwarts had seen in years, never letting the students get away with things they shouldn't, always sticking to the rules. As Head Boy, I ran the school seamlessly, making sure everything was perfect as possible all the time. I never had time for Quidditch, my grades were far too important. I went to only the Gryffindor games, and it was mainly to assure that my Housemates never got out of hand. So, of course it was no wonder I received all twelve OWLS and top honours with my NEWTS.

Even after Hogwarts, I thrived on knowledge and headed straight for a job at the Ministry. I wasn't too fussy on the job I got, as long as it wasn't a janitor or repair wizard. I was delighted when I received the position of Mr. Crouch's personal assistant. I did everything I was told, by the book, without hesitation. When the fiasco involving Mr. Crouch's house-elf happened, I feared he would be fired, and I along with him. But the only punishment was the elf was clothed and sent to Hogwarts to work in the kitchens under Dumbledore's orders. And as Mr. Crouch fell ill, he continued to owl daily instructions for me, and I followed all of them. Imagine my surprise when Mr. Crouch disappeared completely! Again fearing for my well-positioned job, I was surprised to find myself promoted to assistant to the Minister of Magic himself!

When the speculated return of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named arrived, all the Ministry officials were briefed with what little evidence we'd received and were told we may interpret it as we wished. Seeing as how the majority of the information came from the unstable source of Harry Potter, my brother Ron's best friend, I assumed it was fabricated and delved deeper into my work, ignoring all pleas from my family to rethink my decision. So, even though I knew deep down that I shouldn't, I moved out of the family home for good and moved into a flat in London, near the Ministry.

When I moved in, I did the only thing I could think of that seemed to make complete sense to me - I asked my girlfriend, Penelope Clearwater, to move in with me. After all, we had both graduated, were over the legal age and we both had respectable jobs at the Ministry. Everything was going great. We were getting along great, learning from each other and learning each others habits with ease. I was even considering proposing - until the day she told me she believed Harry.

I was never angry at her about it. After all, she was a grown woman and entitled to her own opinions, however wrong they were. I just questioned her on it, secretly pleading she would realize that he was a liar, just wanting the attention. But she stood her ground; I constantly forgot she's stubborn like me. She was always telling me she would side with whomever she felt like siding with and that if I didn't leave her to her own opinions, that she'd leave me. It was an empty threat; she never did more than leave the room and give me the silent treatment for a few hours, a day at the absolute most.

One day, I received an owl from my mother, telling me that a man who heavily supported He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, Fenrir Greyback, had attacked Bill. I'd heard stories about him. It's said Greyback is a werewolf who had developed a taste for human flesh even without the full moon. He was also one of the biggest sources of devastation during the war nearly twenty years ago.

Tossing the letter on the kitchen table, I left for work without a care, assuming it was another one of my mother's ploys to get me home. When I got home that evening, I found Penelope sitting at the kitchen table, my mother's letter clutched in her trembling hands, her face streaked with tears.

"Why didn't you tell me? We need to leave now! We'll Apparate. I'm assuming the Floos will be down at Hogwarts," she rambled, her voice hoarse from crying.

"What are you talking about?" I asked her.

"Your brother, Bill, he's been hurt badly. We have to go see him, you need to be with your family," she explained.

"I'm not going. It's probably just my mother trying to get me to come home. I'm not falling for it," I said. Penelope just stared at me with a complete look of shock on her face, her mouth hanging open. I could tell by the look in her eyes that she was trying to find the right words to use. I could also tell she was near the end of her rope with me.

"You don't believe a letter sent by your own mother, telling you that your brother has been seriously injured?" she asked me, her voice now clear, reaching a slight shriek. I nodded at her. I'd rather tell the truth than lie, even if it got me into big trouble.

"You don't believe her?" Penelope asked again, her voice a little higher. I shook my head and immediately I knew I'd made a terrible mistake. My heart dropped into the pit of my stomach and squeezed it as I watched the fire in her eyes spark to life and ignite brightly. She jumped up from the table so quickly that her chair flew back and hit the kitchen counter several feet away. She took my mother's letter and crumpled it up before throwing it in my face. She stormed out of the room and down the hall to the bedroom, slamming the door behind her. I heard the click of the Muggle door lock and several other new clicks that could only mean she'd locked the door with magic as well. I could hear her banging round in the bedroom as she opened and closed the closet door and dresser drawers. I felt helpless as I sat on our couch and listened to her blow off her frustration in me on our bedroom set.

A few minutes later, I heard one echoing click and jumped to my feet as the bedroom door was flung open to reveal Penelope stalking back down the hall, her floating trunk trailing her. She paused on her way by the living room to throw me one final nasty look that spoke volumes to me: she hated me right now and had had enough of my disbelief and stubbornness. She let out an angry sigh and stalked down to the front door. She stopped only long enough to shrink her trunk small enough to fit in her pocket before flinging the door open. Realization suddenly hit me like a brick wall as I ran down the stairs and out the front door after her.

"Penelope!" I called out after her. She stopped in her track and waited a full ten seconds before turning around and when I truly saw it; her eyes were filled with pain, hurt, anger and heartbreak. All those emotions had filled her eyes until they were full and spilled over the edge in the form of tears. I knew then and there that she was finished with me, she'd had enough of me and we were through. In an instant I'd lost the most important thing to ever walk into my life.

I watched her walk down the road and out of sight. It was the last time I ever saw her. That night, I Flooed back to my parents' house in the middle of the night. I slept in my old room that had been untouched. I slept late the next day and when I appeared out of nowhere in the kitchen, I caused my mother to drop the stack of plates she was moving across the room. She must have seen the anguish in my face, because she ran over and gave me a hug before waving her wand to clean up the plates and to make me some breakfast.

I took a week off of work, to calm my nerves, and stayed at my parents'. The first day back, Ginny and Ron asked question after question, but by suppertime they had stopped and I only assumed my mother had asked them to keep quiet and that I'd tell them in my own time. I never did tell them.

When I went back to London, to my flat, the first thing I had to do was clean everything out of my home that reminded me of her. But when I stepped through the door, I found a key holding down a note on the front stairway. I picked up the key and my heart sank a little - it was Penelope's key. I dropped it in my pocket and picked up the note. It simply said, "I'm sorry." I folded it back up and placed it in my pocket with the key and continued up the stairs. I reached the top and saw that she had cleared out her things herself, except for one photo of us together at a party after we'd gotten home from Hogwarts in seventh year. I missed her so much.

I went back to my normal day-to-day routine. Granted, it had changed slightly now that Penelope was gone, but I still managed to move on.

Several months later, I received a letter. And now, as I sit here next to her casket, I realize she was right all along.